The Forgotten Child
by Ariel Lovegood
Summary: Sirius Black was once a father, and he enjoyed this role. But when he was blamed for the death of his best friend's family and sentenced to Azkaban, where was his daughter to go? More importantly, how could she understand everything at five years old?


"I don't wanna talk to no stinky old man, Hagrid. If you want me to stop yelling so much, you should give me more space, not a babysitter." The child blew back a strand of dark hair and, crossing her arms, continued pouting. There was nothing particularly striking about the girl, or her temper tantrum—a typical child's response to not getting their way. Hagrid knew this and merely rolled his eyes as he went to confront her.

"Now look here," he said, lumbering toward her, "this 'stinky old man' is Professor Albus Dumbledore, the kindest, wisest wizard at this school."

"So marry him, for all I care. Just get him and all your other people away from me! I don't need your help, I need my father." Her black eyes glared with a viciousness that sent the half-giant stumbling back for a second. Her anger seemed to transfer to him as he marched back to her. He was a ferocious looking man when he needed to be, but the child seemed only to grow in defiance, not budging an inch.

"You listen here, little miss. I don't mind workin' day and night to keep you comfortable, even as you push me away. But if yer goin' to take that ungrateful brat attitude of yers and spit it in the face of every noble person who has much more important things to do than pay you their time and is tryin' to HELP you for Christ's sake, then you might as well be thrown back where you came from, see how you do without our—"

"That's enough, Hagrid." The aged wizard had not spoken until now. His expression was as fierce as the child's, but with a deep calmness. Even more strange than his long beard or his bright blue robes were his eyes. They twinkled, but without a hint of joy, in his fixed gaze on the child. "Rebecca, I believe? I had hoped to meet you at a better time, though I will confess, if you'll excuse me, that my expectations were not extraordinarily high."

Rebecca squinted her eyes and moved her piercing glare from Hagrid to the wizard, but he did not show the slightest change in expression. "You think you're clever, but I see right through you. You use big, nice-sounding words to make it seem like I can trust you, when you're really talking to me like I'm a baby. I may be five years old, but I don't need that kind of talking-to. I've gotten it from every jerk who waltzes in here and thinks they can sort out my life. That by just talking to me I'll suddenly be the sweetest girl ever."

"Then what if I told you that I had absolutely no intention of sorting out your life, or making you into a sweet human being, but rather, giving the resources to do that for yourself?"

The girl seemed stunned for a few moments, before suspiciously asking, "What do you mean?"

"I'd like for you to meet some of the professors here. Believe me, these people are not the type you've been seeing. They have their duties to attend to, and will take little notice of your problems. But if you can learn to hold a civil conversation with them, they may teach you few useful things. One would hope I hired them for good reason."

Rebecca seemed to draw back in consideration of this, but never took her suspicious expression off the professor. It was only a few seconds before she whispered, "Will they teach me where I can find my father?" The air hung with this comment for a good while before Dumbledore replied.

"There is certain knowledge that must be discovered by the person searching for it. I know only a combination of rumor and distant account, and it is a rather dreary tale. You must simply trust me that one day you will understand all that I cannot explain."

Rebecca looked as though she would fight back, but upon seeing his hard stare, she retreated to her deadly whisper. "But I can't trust you, Mr. Dumbledore."

"That has been clear to me since before we met, Ms. Rebecca. But please do try. If not for the sake of poor Hagrid who must deal with your tantrums everyday, for your own. I know that within you lies energy of great might and power, far beyond your age. Wouldn't it feel better to channel it into something productive rather than yell at each potential friend you encounter?"

Rebecca suddenly seemed to soften as she looked at Dumbledore, and her words had a new sincerity to them. "Hagrid won't let me in the Forbidden Forest. I want to see the creatures, that's all. Just see and maybe wrestle with a few of them, but all in good fun. They couldn't hurt me, I'm much stronger than I look. And I wouldn't hurt them."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rebecca," Hagrid suddenly scolded. "I've told you a million times, the Forest is deadlier than the muggle wilderness you're used to. There's no chance of the Headmaster agreeing to such a crazy scheme. You'd get yourself killed before dark!"

For the first time that night, Dumbledore smiled and let out a chuckle. "I cannot overrule the decisions of Rebecca's official caretaker. However, I do believe the outskirts of the Forest would allow her to release her energy better than your cozy cabin, Hagrid. It would be quite a shame to see her demolish the place any further in her particularly troubled moments."

Rebecca seemed almost more dumbfounded than Hagrid at this. Before his gaping had stopped, however, she turned to her large caretaker and begged, "See, he thinks I could go. And he's the smartest, oldest wizard or whatever, right? So please could I go into the Forbidden Forest to play, Hagrid?" Hagrid was glancing back and forth between Rebecca and Dumbledore as though they had casually told him that they wanted to go to a tea party at a great and evil dark wizard's house.

"Well, erm...I'm no one to question the wisdom of Albus Dumbledore. But it will be in only the outskirts, and only with me there to watch out for you, and never at night. Got that, young lady?"

"Yes, Hagrid." She gave a glance to Dumbledore, but quickly turned away. "Is that all you came to ask me, mister?"

"It was. Thank you for the company, Rebecca. It is nice to speak with a child occasionally. I came into teaching with the misconception that I would get the opportunity quite often. Oh, and Hagrid. I meant to tell you, the pumpkins are looking simply splendid this year. Other professors have expressed envy at your muggle growing methods. I do hope you'll be able to enlighten them."

Hagrid blushed a purplish red at this. "I will, Professor. Goodnight."

"Goodnight to you both." With a turn of his cloak and a last glance at the child, the wizard glided out into the night, leaving Hagrid and Rebecca silent and still in the cottage. It was a few moments before Rebecca looked over to Hagrid and muttered, "Does he always talk like that?"

A startled Hagrid turned back to her. "Talk like what?"

"He sounds so nice and smart and honest. And then you realize he hasn't said a single useful thing. Oh, I want my daddy, Hagrid. Why am I the only one who can't know where he is?" The child looked as miserable to him as the day he'd found her in the rubble of her father's ransacked house. He'd gone there under the assumption Dumbledore had sent him to find an enchanted family heirloom, or a note from the Dark Lord. The last thing he expected was little Rebecca Black shivering under the stairwell.

"Because you're better off not knowing. Honestly." Hagrid forced himself to turn away from the piteous sight. He had to be strong for her. "You're the only person left who doesn't hate him, probably. Now come on, I've let you stay up late enough. Even I'm exhausted. Let's have a cup o' tea and get to bed."


End file.
